


Socks of War

by MothTale



Series: Shingeki no Shenanigans [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Groping, Cute, Fluff, Gen, In fact not kinky at all, Lots of blushing, Mild JeanMarco, Misuse of Harness, No romance unless you squint, Not nearly as kinky as the tags so far make it seem, general stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothTale/pseuds/MothTale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The male cadets discover a newly polished floor. Sock sliding ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Socks of War

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written. I do apologise for the dumbness of it. On the up side, no death references! Huzzah!

Jean wondered why it was Connie was clinging to the doorframe, and why it was he was grinning like a maniac.   
“Guys, grab your socks and follow me. I have something awesome to show you.”  
Jean scowled, pausing in the process of rolling off his socks, the day’s worth of 3D gear training souring his expression by a few more degrees. Right now pretty much everything hurt, and his tolerance for idiocy was close to zero.  
“What are you talking about Connie?”  
“Just put your socks back on and follow me already.” Connie beckoned to him, and to the others in the room, grinning with the joy of secret knowledge.  
“Huh, did something happen?” Marco leaned forward, having just placed his boots neatly by the wall.  
“No, just follow me. Come on. It’s awesome.” Connie was still grinning. Jean had intended to ignore him. The straps of his harness were digging in to his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to unstrap himself, fall back onto the mattress and whine until Reiner told him to shut up. But Reiner, along with Bertoldt and Marco, were getting up to follow.  
“Marco…?”   
“Aren’t you curious Jean? Come on.” Marco was smiling, shrugging his shoulders and heading towards the doorway. Jean grunted and, with great effort, stood up. Something clicked. Jean headed towards the door with a grumble.

Connie stopped at some more of the dorms, adding a few more curious individuals to his procession. Jean wondered if he was enjoying it, the way he was striding along looking, in Jean’s opinion, rather the fool. He led them all around the building, before finally stopping at the top of an empty corridor. Connie turned around, hands on his hips, his face fit to split beneath that stupid grin.  
“I don’t get it.”  
“Corridor’s empty man.”  
“…the hell are you doing dragging us all out here Springer?”  
Connie’s grin didn’t waver. “Watch this.”  
He walked into the crowd of boys, clearing himself a path. Jean realised it was a run-up and pressed himself against the wall, wondering what the little bald kid was up to. Connie ran, jumped a little and glided across the floor as if he was on wheels. He turned as he brought his slide to a halt, still grinning. He bowed to the assembled crowd.  
“This, gentlemen, is what I brought you here for.”  
There was a short silence.  
“Oh my god, I used to love doing this as a kid!”  
Marco darted forward. He slid across the floor, his arms out for balance, nearly hitting Connie and finally coming to a halt several paces on. He turned round with a flourish, beaming with just a tiny degree of smugness.  
“I can beat that no problem,” Reiner muttered. Jean saw him hunch down, poised for the run-up. He looked like he could punch right through a concrete wall.  
Marco looked at him, his arms clasped behind his back and an impish smile on his face. “Bet you can’t.”  
“Hey, don’t be an idiot Marco…”  
“Yeah, Reiner looks serious.”  
“Shut up, this’ll be funny.” Jean smirked, and folded his arms.  
With a short yell Reiner took off. Jean was surprised. With all the ungainly elegance of a goose landing on a pond Reiner hit the polished floor and, shortly thereafter, Marco. In retrospect, Marco was probably lucky not to be nursing several broken ribs, a shattered coccyx and assorted crushing injuries, considering how Reiner landed on top of him. There was a general intake of breath, followed by a hiss of sympathy, at the moment of impact.  
“Marco, still alive over there?” Jean called.  
Marco sat up when Reiner moved, nodding, and looking faintly concussed. Connie headed off further down the corridor, and the others decided to take to the newly polished boards. Jean watched with satisfaction as Eren fell arse-first, bringing Armin down with him when he tried to help him.  
“Hey, Bertoldt, come on and give it a go,” Reiner called to his friend, who stood awkwardly behind Jean. Bertoldt frowned, his eyes flicking towards Armin and Eren. Jean could see why he was reluctant. It’d be like putting roller-skates on a giraffe. Jean found himself nudging Bertoldt, urging him on.  
“Jean, that’s not fair.” It was Marco, carefully stepping around the Eren-Armin disaster zone and gliding over towards the end of the corridor. “You’re not doing it either.”  
“Yeah Kirstein,” shouted Eren, from the floor.  
“Are you going to make me?” Jean said, ignoring Eren. The words were only just out of Jean’s mouth before Marco had hold of the loops of his harness, hanging free around his waist. He yanked him forward, onto the slippery floor. Jean hadn’t spotted it before, but Marco had rolled his socks down away from his heel, and the extra grip made a big difference. No amount of backpedalling could put any distance between Jean and that mischievous grin.

Jean found himself on his back, curled backwards over something which wouldn’t shut up.  
“Oh…I’m so sorry Thomas, I didn’t mean to throw him at you. Are you alright?”  
“No harm done. Don’t worry Marco.”  
“I thought we were friends…” Jean whined, prying himself off of Thomas. Marco smiled at him. It was impossible to be pissed at him long with that face. Jean was already forgiving him, but not quite completely.  
“Ok Marco, you owe me. One shot.”  
“What?”  
Jean grabbed one of his harness belts with one hand. With the other he rolled his socks off of his heels.  
“Hey, I’m the one who got hit, shouldn’t I be-"  
“Shut up Thomas, I’m trying to aim. Marco, put your socks on properly or I’ll miss.”  
“Jean, what are you…?”  
“You’ll see in a second.”

Marco didn’t see. Jean threw him backwards, so he didn’t see his target, but he could guess who it was. Who else, after all, would Jean intentionally want to hit?  
“Hey Marco, what the hell are you doing?”  
“E-Eren, Marco, are you two alright?” Armin peered down at the human clump, clutching his hands to his chest and looking like a startled rabbit.   
“Terrific. Marco, get off me.”  
Marco removed himself, as swiftly as humanly possible, murmuring apologies.  
“Armin, give me a hand.”  
“Wha-… Eren! I am not a human projectile. Could you let go?”  
“Armin, help me push.”  
“Eren!”  
“Ok, one, two, three!”

Marco’s face felt like it was on fire.  
“Jean…”  
“Marco, you have three seconds to move your hand before this gets weird.”  
“What?”  
“Marco. Hand. Move.”  
“Which one…?”  
“The one which is currently touching my – “  
“Oh god! I am so sorry!”  
“Marco, it’s fine. Just move. And Reiner, stop laughing already, it’s not that funny.”  
Reiner was wiping tears from his eyes, completely ignoring the fact that Bertoldt was lying like an upturned beetle next to him. Jean pushed Marco off of him, sucking in a shallow breath and hoping his face was not trying to match Marco’s embarrassed hue. Marco was staring at the floor, both palms glued to his own face, as if trying to cover up the blush. It didn’t really work.  
“Hey, don’t worry about it Marco,” said Connie, who had glided back over to watch the collision, “we already know all about you and Jean.” He winked suggestively. Marco made a single, plaintive sound, as if calling to the floor to swallow him up.  
“Knock it off,” Jean muttered, “before he starts spurting blood.”  
For some reason this made Connie roar with laughter and Reiner doubled up once again.  
Marco looked up. “Oh…Jean, you’re bleeding.” He tapped his own nose and Jean put his hand over his top lip to feel damp, sticky blood.  
“Hell…”  
He could hear Eren sniggering.  
“Maybe it’d be a good idea to stop throwing people around now?” said Armin, a note of hope in his voice.  
Jean looked at Reiner, and then at Eren, still snickering against the wall. Reiner smiled crookedly. Jean sighed.  
“Fine,” he muttered, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He jumped up, looking down at Marco. He looked towards Eren.   
With a movement of utmost elegance Jean Kirstein glided across the floor, swiped Eren Jaeger’s feet out from under him and left him winded on the floor.  
When Eren could speak again he pronounced vengeance.  
Thomas sighed dramatically. “Is anyone going to call a stop to this feud?”  
Jean shrugged, turned away from Eren. He extended a hand to Marco, who was still curled up in a little ball of embarrassment on the floor, and helped him to his feet.  
“Well, I’m going to bed,” he muttered, stretching.  
Reiner snorted. “Really?”  
Marco carried on blushing. Jean rolled his eyes. “The rest of you can carry on until Shadis-"  
“Speak of the devil!”  
“Run!”  
Easier said than done. The majority went flat on their faces, their sock-clad feet betraying them completely. When Shadis stepped into the corridor it was to find most of the cadets sprawled face down on the, now very much scuffed, floor.

Jean and Marco heard Shadis’s shouting from around the corner. Neither was foolish enough to open their mouths and Jean was only dimly aware of the fact he was grabbing Marco’s arms and pressing him against the wall. Marco’s face felt like a single white-hot star, radiating heat so strongly Jean could feel it on his face. Or that might have been the blush spreading to his cheeks. Freeing one hand, he mimed for them to make a run for it. Marco nodded. Luckily for them, the sound of Shadis more than covered up their footsteps.

From the safety of the dorm, Jean watched as the rest of the boys were forced to run laps in the moonlight. Marco was struggling with his harness.  
“…you’ve practically busted the straps, throwing me around like that,” he grumbled.  
“You started it. Plus I saved you from Shadis. See, you could be out there.” He pointed to the guys still running up and down.  
Marco glanced at the window, shuddered, and looked suitably grateful.   
“So, the way I see it, you owe me,” Jean said, grinning.  
Marco fixed him with a look rather close to disapproval, a faint frown appearing on his lips. “No. I never meant to throw you at Thomas. You definitely meant to use me to hit Eren though.”  
“But, then I saved you from Shadis. That’s got to cancel out the Eren thing and more. So you owe me, like I said. Also, you then landed on me…and…well.”  
Marco’s face went red again. Jean suppressed a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna blush every single time I mention –“  
“Shut up,” squeaked Marco. “It was an accident.”  
Jean grinned at him. “Of course it was.”  
Marco finally won in his battle with the harness buckle and discarded the thing on the floor in an untidy pile. He turned over, pressing his face into the pillow. Even the tops of his ears were red.  
“And you still owe me,” said Jean, cheerfully.  
Marco’s response was muffled by the pillow, which was probably a good thing.


End file.
